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Trout Whisperer: Will you accept the charges for a collect call?

It’s 3:49 in the morning. Twenty degrees above zero. One of those hazy pale almost full moons casting shadows over the snow from a multitude of leafless trees. Anticipation was high.

We lit a small fire, it so quickly required a second serving of wood, as hungry as us I guess, so, wood was ushered forth, and not one to waste a good fire, my companions and I roasted Philly cheese steak brats and warmly toasted ourselves, in the process.

Noshing on fresh roasted sausages, one such as me feels a great deal of satisfaction, the pals, the fire, the food and, just being out of doors. Kinda odd in that quite a few miles away sits a warm bed, with a pillow, and I could be there right now, like I was yesterday and probably will be tomorrow but this trying to call saw whet owls in the winters dark, well, like the fire dying down before us, the number of possible days remaining in mouth calling them quite close to hand, is coming to a close.

This morning, is turning out to be a bust on the little owls, and not for trying, this is our 14th stop, and it’s somehow okay, I mean with these guys, wafting through so many shared memories almost hip boot deep has turned a bad outing of not calling owls, into yet another time where one of us will eventually say, yeah, remember that time, and we will say, yup, because we were there, even if the owls were not.    

- The Trout Whisperer

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